


want it to be perfect

by mysteribunny (aditlep6)



Category: South Park
Genre: Car Sex, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24015352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aditlep6/pseuds/mysteribunny
Summary: With his classmates cruising around town in various qualities of vehicle, it was only natural for Kenny to want one to call his own.
Relationships: Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch, Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh
Comments: 11
Kudos: 124





	want it to be perfect

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i spend too much time thinking about what cars the south park characters drive. i refuse to be held accountable for my actions
> 
> this was exposition practice because i write too much dialogue... i also write too much plot for my porn! what a coincidence!
> 
> title is from lies by marina and the diamonds
> 
> enjoy!

Kenny turns the key in the ignition once, twice, three times until the engine starts to growl. One fourth and final crank brings the truck to life, dashboard lighting up like a Christmas tree with countless issues begging to be addressed, but Kenny can’t think about that right now; he’s just glad it finally worked.

“Is that good?” Butters asks from the passenger seat.

“Yeah,” Kenny says, beaming.

When Jimbo Kern asked Kenny to take a look at his shoddy old hunting truck, little did he know how easy it would be to deem the truck unfixable and offer to take it for parts for a hundred bucks. He knew that Jimbo would recognize his old truck rattling around the streets of South Park once Kenny got it back up and running, but he hoped that by that point, he’d realize just how desperate Kenny was to have a vehicle to call his own.

Stan had been pissed at Kenny for tricking his uncle, but Stan could never stay mad at anybody for long. Besides, the truck _seemed_ unfixable, virtually decrepit, and Kenny wasn’t sure he had the skill – or money – to fix it. Stan’s one to talk, anyway; he was one of the first in their class to turn sixteen and he already had his first car waiting for him. Marvin Marsh’s Impala had Stan’s name on it for years while it sat untouched in the garage. Soon to follow was Craig, who drives his mom’s hand-me-down midnight blue Dodge van with a bumper held together by duct tape. Cartman drives a cherry red Jeep fresh off the lot, and Token had a considerably modest sleek silver Lexus.

With his classmates cruising around town in various qualities of vehicle, it was only natural for Kenny to start yearning for his own. Not only was he sick of wandering back home in the freezing early morning hours after overnight shifts at City Wok, but he’d stumbled across plenty of South Park couples having what could only be described as _fun_ in the back seats of their cars. Butters is not materialistic, and Kenny knows that Butters wouldn’t be sticking around the McCormick shithole if he was expecting riches and fortune, but he sometimes catches Butters eyeing Cartman’s Jeep and wonders if he’s thinking about another man’s backseat. The thought usually grosses him out, and he shakes it off immediately, but it still lurks like a cloud over Kenny’s head.

Thus followed the first weeks of springtime spent in front of the McCormick house, Kenny tinkering with a different part of the truck every day while Butters played embarrassingly upbeat music and did his homework in Kenny’s driveway, the only break being when Kenny needed a part and they trudged to the nearest auto shop together. He almost always hopped in the passenger seat whenever Kenny tested the engine in refreshing hope that it would work this time, despite countless misfires and Kenny-learning-stickshift-related disasters.

So when Kenny turns the key and the truck finally rumbles to life for the first time in nearly two months, they both hold their breath waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it does, Kenny can’t contain his smile and Butters looks over to him in quiet awe.

“You did it, Kenny!” Butters finally cheers, a hand landing on Kenny’s shoulder. Kenny has a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel in case anything decides to explode again and he needs to do some quick thinking. He’s looking at the dashboard, trying to pick what button to press first, when he looks over to Butters.

“Wanna go for a ride?” Kenny asks. Butters’ eyes bug out of his head.

“R-really? So soon? But look at all those lights and warnings, Kenny! And don’t you gotta register it or somethin’?” Butters’ eyes were flickering wildly, mostly with fear, but Kenny knew Butters well enough to tell when there was just a bit of excitement hidden there, too.

“Don’t worry about it. Barbrady’s taking his daily nap. What’s the worst that can happen?” While he says this, he puts the truck in reverse and lets it roll back ever so slightly. The truck squeals uncomfortably when he pumps the brake, and Butters yelps and clings to the handle above the passenger door. _New brake pads_ , he mentally notes, and continues backing out onto the dirt trail that leads over the train tracks and into town. He hasn’t quite gotten shifting up to higher speeds yet, so he stays on the suburban road where there’s less traffic.

“Where’re we goin’, Ken? I gotta get back home before sundown,” Butters says. Kenny steals a glance; Butters never let go of the handle, but there’s a discernible glee in his eyes as the rusty truck clambers down the familiar street.

“Not sure yet,” Kenny lies. He knows exactly where he wants to park his truck. When he’d gone up to Jimbo’s with Stan and Kyle a few weeks back for a visit, he’d hitched a ride with them in that goddamned Impala, inconspicuously inspecting the backseat for evidence of the handful of _encounters_ he assumes Stan and Kyle have had back there. There was no such evidence – Kyle was a neat freak, after all – but as if offended, the moment Jimbo asked Kenny to take a look at the old truck, Stan and Kyle ditched Kenny. They headed towards the secluded woods behind Stark’s Pond, leaving Kenny without a ride, probably for the sake of creating aforementioned evidence to spite him. It’s be the perfect revenge to take his own boyfriend up to the same place in the truck he’d gotten out of the ordeal.

They ride past their classmates’ houses at a snail’s pace, slow enough to look in the front windows. Stan’s car is gone, maybe in the garage, but Cartman’s is in his driveway. Kenny thinks about when the four of them stopped hanging around each other like they were glued together. Probably around the same time Stan and Kyle started fucking, and that’s when Kenny decided to stop treating Butters like shit. Kenny had a little bit of glue left over from their sticky friendship and used it on Butters, to paste him right over his heart like a cute little button.

Kenny finally kicks the truck up to a higher gear after a few attempts, and the vehicle makes a scary noise beneath their feet.

“I sure am proud of you, Kenny,” Butters says, seemingly unprompted, but it sounds like there’s a _but_ coming. “But this thing ain’t soundin’ too good.”

“It’s going, isn’t it?” Kenny snaps. He immediately regrets it. It’s a conversation they’d already had a few times over the past few months: _You already got so much saved up, why bother tryin’ to fix somethin’ you might not even be able to?_ Butters doesn’t understand what the freedom of a vehicle means to Kenny, regardless of how much he needs to spend to get there.

At Kenny’s harsh reaction, Butters sinks back into the worn upholstery a bit and looks out his window. Kenny readjusts his grip on the steering wheel and slows down to make the turn past the school up towards Stark’s Pond. Butters seems to recognize the path and perks up a bit but doesn’t say anything.

Kenny’s careful driving up the trails where snow will remain well into summer, coolly hidden in the shadows of gnarled tree branches. Park County High’s junior class has ambivalently worn a path through the woods, around the pond, and up to a clearing where a car, van, truck, or obnoxiously colored Jeep can hide from small town scrutiny. Kenny’s been here before for bonfires, and once in the backseat of Craig’s van, but never with Butters, and never in a vehicle he could call his own.

The sun is threatening to dip below the horizon but will laze above the mountaintops long enough for Kenny to enjoy the moment. Luckily, no other vehicles are in the little clearing, so Kenny parks the truck looking over the grimy pond and has barely set the parking brake before Butters’ lips are on his.

Kenny’s hands instinctively come to Butters’ cheeks to guide the eager kiss, deepening it and licking away Butters’ surprised moans. Butters’ hands are on Kenny’s shoulders, then his chest, then up into Kenny’s knotty hair as he bites back against Kenny’s wandering tongue. He’s still wearing his seatbelt, so Kenny takes the opportunity to trail a hand down Butters’ soft body and to the release. When it clicks. Kenny realizes it was all that was holding Butters back – Butters crawls over the center console easily, like he’d been planning it out the whole ride up. Kenny’s always amazed at how Butters knows exactly how to straddle Kenny’s lap to align their bodies perfectly like they’re two broken, jagged halves of a greater whole.

Kenny tries to rub his hands up and down Butters’ back only to be met by the hard plastic of the steering wheel. Butters is trapped between that and Kenny and doesn’t have much room to move. He seems to notice Kenny’s line of thinking and stops kissing him.

“It’s a little cramped in here,” Butters says, breath hot against Kenny’s swollen lips.

“Here, let me-” Kenny begins and reaches down to the side of the seat against the door blindly to find any sort of adjusting button or lever. He can’t, and gets frustrated, and tugs Butters’ hips upwards to hover. Reaching awkwardly between Butters’ legs, he only briefly relishes in the growing hardness in Butters’ pants before finding a lever and pulling.

The seat slides back abruptly from the extra weight and Butters’ forehead clacks into Kenny’s painfully from the unexpected movement. They both rub their foreheads, but when they make eye contact again, they can’t help but smile at each other.

“A backseat would help,” Butters says jokingly, but a pang shoots through Kenny’s chest.

“There’s plenty we can do without a backseat,” Kenny says a little forcefully. Something flashes behind Butters’ eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came.

There’s a bit more room than before, so Butters scoots back enough to resume kissing Kenny and let his hand trail down to the button of Kenny’s jeans. He’s practiced, and it pops open easily even with just the one hand. Butters slips into Kenny’s briefs and wraps his soft fingers around Kenny’s stiffening cock, careful but firm. Kenny grunts and tries to buck up into Butters’ fist, but Butters’ weight on his thighs has him pinned, completely at his mercy.

“I’ve thought about this for weeks,” Kenny whispers against the shell of Butters’ ear, ministrations on Kenny’s cock faltering slightly but resuming. “The minute I saw this truck, I was counting the days I’d get to drive up here and touch you."

Kenny only gets talkative when all the attention is on him. Butters’ response is breathy. “I know, Ken.”

Before Kenny can continue Butters gracefully slides down beneath the wheel well, snug between Kenny’s quivering thighs. He never once lets go of Kenny’s dick, and now his breath teases the exposed tip.

“I did it for you,” Kenny says, anticipation overwhelming him.

“I know,” Butters repeats, and then Kenny’s cock is enveloped in the warm heat of his mouth, the tip hitting the back of Butters’ throat almost immediately. Kenny’s hands fly to Butters’ hair to guide him, pull him off so he doesn’t choke, but Butters isn’t responsive to the tugs. His brow is furrowed in concentration as his tongue swirls around the base and teases its way up the shaft to the slit, and that’s when Kenny has to look away or risk coming so soon and embarrassing himself.

Unfortunately, there’s not much else in the truck to focus on other than the worrying lights on the dashboard and the crack in the rearview mirror he’s never noticed until now, so in less than a minute he’s trying to push Butters off and warn him. Butters is determined, and Kenny comes when Butters sucks him deep and uses his other hand to massage his balls.

Butters swallows it all down while Kenny sinks into the driver's seat like he's made of lead. Butters braces himself on Kenny's knees and excitedly tries to crawl out of the leg space, but his shoulders smack the steering wheel hard, which is sure to leave a bruise. "Fuck," he says, which is unlike him.

“Buttercup?” Kenny hesitates. He waits for Butters to crawl up, but a stray elbow smacks the stick of the transmission. The truck makes a horrible sound under the hood, but Kenny is preoccupied. Butters props himself back in Kenny’s lap, legs spread as wide as they can go in the tight space.

“Touch me, Ken,” Butters says with need, and there’s a bit of edge in his voice, too. Kenny wastes no time unbuttoning Butters’ pants and finding his hard cock, pumping it at the awkward angle inside his briefs. Butters comes quickly with a cute shudder, collapsing into Kenny’s chest and tucking his head against Kenny’s calming pulse.

Kenny holds Butters tight and a torrent of emotions washes over him, none of which he feels like dealing with in a cold truck on a Tuesday afternoon, so he looks out over the pond with weary eyes. He realizes he could fall asleep like that, with Butters curled up in his lap.

“That was thanks,” Butters explains to fill the silence, “for fixin’ up the truck.” He sits up off Kenny and rebuttons his pants, crawling back across the console and plopping in the passenger seat. Kenny tucks his soft dick back in his pants and those emotions come back full force, so he reaches for the transmission to take Butters home. When he shifts and the truck doesn’t move, he panics.

“Parking brake,” Butters says.

“Oh.” Kenny releases the parking brake. “God, I love you.”

Butters’ lips quirk into a smile, but he doesn’t say anything. Kenny shifts again, but the stick is stuck, and the engine groans in the weird way it did before when Butters was sucking Kenny’s dick.

“Oh jeez,” is all Butters says before Kenny yanks the keys out of the ignition and they both hop out of the truck like it’s about to explode.

It doesn’t explode, but Kenny isn’t hopeful when he peeks under the hood and is met with a lungful of smoke that isn’t the good, nicotine-laced kind.

“Hope you wore your walking shoes,” Kenny jokes, but apparently it’s the wrong thing to say. Butters’ expression twists into despair and he starts stomping towards the mountain path, not waiting up.

Kenny spares one last exasperated look at his smoking truck before jogging to catch up with Butters. He reaches out to touch Butters’ shoulder, maybe offer him his jacket, when Butters swings around. His eyes look watery and his face is getting red.

“’I did it for you’ my ass, Kenny! You did it for _you!_ That’s your clunker truck and I won’t let you keep drainin’ money into it!” He’s facing Kenny but keeping pace walking backwards. The sun is going down fast, like a threat, and Butters was counting on having a ride home. “I try to be appreciative of what you do for me Kenny, I really do, but I just can’t appreciate a truck that’s keepin’ us so far apart!”

“Huh?” Kenny says dumbly. He'd thought he and Butters were closer than ever. He'd treasured the time he spent working on the truck, but only when Butters was around to watch. He was spending a lot more money on it than he expected to, but it was worth it to have a way around this shithole town. He decides to get defensive. “I saw you eyeing Cartman’s Jeep and I know you used to fuck around with him! Of course I’m worried I owe you something!”

“You think because Eric stuck his wiener in my mouth when we were nine that he’s my secret lover or somethin’? Are you that insecure about how I feel about you?”

“Well, now I am! I thought we were great!” Butters turns back around at that. Not that Kenny can blame Butters – Kenny spent his brief hiatus from his and Butters’ relationship last summer in Craig’s pants – but there had definitely been more going on with Butters and Cartman than some kiddie _wiener_ stuff.

“I watch you work on that nasty truck-” Butters gets too far ahead for Kenny to hear the whole sentence, but he jogs to catch up- “don’t even take me anywhere anymore! I know how to walk, Kenny, clearly I do ‘cause I’m doin’ it right now!”

“Look,” Kenny says, but Butters doesn’t look. He sighs. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been paying a lot of attention to you. I really thought this was something I was doing for the both of us.”

Butters slows down and lets Kenny walk beside him. They’re almost in the woods, nearly all the way around the pond. “I know you weren’t doin’ it on purpose, Kenny. I can tell how much you cared about havin’ a car, and I’m real sorry it exploded again.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Kenny apologizes. They’re quiet for a moment, their footsteps the only sound around. “I don’t think I can really fix the truck.”

“I think you could,” Butters counters. “Don’t mean I want you to.” Butters smiles, and Kenny laces their hands together. They hear a car coming up behind them, quickly approaching. Kenny tugs Butters off to the side and turns to see a beat-up old Impala barreling towards them. Stan stops a little short for Kenny’s taste, but they stop walking to talk to Stan as he rolls down the window, revealing Kyle in the other seat.

“What are you guys doing here?” Kyle shouts without greeting.

“Going for a walk,” Kenny says, but Butters starts talking at the same time.

“We were foolin’ around in Kenny’s truck,” Butters admits. Kenny’s face flushes red, and so does Stan’s, but Kyle and Butters find it hilarious.

“I knew that was Jimbo’s old truck!” Kyle says between laughs.

“Dude, it’s literally on fire,” Stan says to Kenny. “We didn’t want to just park up there next to a burning truck. What did you guys do in there?”

“Nothing that you guys haven’t done in this old thing,” Kenny teases and knocks on the driver’s door, embarrassment quickly subsiding. These are his childhood best friends, after all, and he still has Butters’ hand held tight.

“Car sex? Ew, god, no. Can you imagine the mess?” Kyle supplies. Kenny’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “And it’d be so cramped! Don’t tell me you guys actually had _sex_ in that rickety old truck!”

“Just a blow job,” Butters mutters, suddenly shy. Maybe embarrassed.

“What do you guys do up in the clearing all the time if it’s not car sex?” Kenny asks a bit brazenly, but genuinely curious. What else did Stan and Kyle do other than have sex and annoy literally everybody in town?

“Uh, get away from our parents,” Stan says incredulously. “Talk. Make out. Listen to shitty music. But not sex, dude. Not in a car.”

“Yeah, dude, like, what if the car caught on fire while I was giving you a BJ?” Kyle teases. Stan finally laughs at that, if not a little reserved for Kenny and Butters’ sake, but Butters is laughing too.

“Fuck you guys,” Kenny says, but he’s laughing, they’re all laughing, and it’s like Kenny’s truck isn’t on fire on top of the mountain. It’s like Stan and Kyle haven’t been doing something that’s emasculated Kenny for months, pushing the limits of his relationship because of some unattainable standard he’d set for himself.

“Butters, isn’t your curfew sundown?” Stan asks after they’ve calmed down. Kenny realizes it’s getting harder to see as darkness settles over the woods. Stan flicks his headlights on manually. “Do you guys need a ride?”

“I’d sure appreciate it, Stan!” Butters cheers like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He tugs Kenny into the backseat of Stan’s Impala by their conjoined hands. The car is warm, the heat blasting and soft music playing through the radio, both things that didn’t work in Jimbo’s old truck. Stan starts driving, the ride down amazingly smooth compared to the bumpy, rickety one up.

“What would be the best car to have sex in?” Kyle wonders aloud.

“A limo?” Stan answers, looking briefly at Kyle as he drives, wanting Kyle’s approval. Kyle contemplates this for a moment.

“Not a Jeep,” Butters says emphatically, like he’s an expert on the subject. Kenny smiles like an idiot, cheeks aching, not unlike the funny way his heart aches when Butters squeezes his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/genderclumps)  
> or feel free to rq my [sp acct](https://twitter.com/mysteribunny)  
> 


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